


In Sickness and in Health

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [49]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: 1990s, Breast cancer, Cancer, F/M, Single Motherhood, cemotherapy, working women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: This was what it meant, right? To love someone through the good and the bad? He’d always sworn he didn’t need vows to love her like he’d married her, but now he understood why people did it. Why people stood up in front of friends and family and god herself to make a promise to look after each other.





	In Sickness and in Health

**Title:** In Sickness and in Health  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Gen  
**Timeframe:** _Florence Nighten-Corky_ (Season 10)  
**A/N:** Spoiler alert, this is where these two idiots are going. I promise, eventually, all the pieces will fall into place. Disclaimer: Then and now, it’s all Warner Bros and Diane English. I’m just over here, writing and hoping Peter shows up in the 12th season.

Summary: _This was what it meant, right? To love someone through the good and the bad? He’d always sworn he didn’t need vows to love her like he’d married her, but now he understood why people did it. Why people stood up in front of friends and family and god herself to make a promise to look after each other._

Murphy hovered in the doorway, wondering just how she could tell her son what was happening to her when she couldn’t explain it herself. But if she’d learned anything from Corky bringing her home today and from the woman in the hospital yesterday, she needed to let him know. They needed to talk about this. Avery was a smart kid and it wasn’t fair - it wasn’t right - to hide it from him. After all, Frank had been here last night and now Corky was here, in the kitchen, cleaning up a dinner Avery deserved. Tired as she really was, it was time for real talk.

Her son’s freshly orange hair looked rusty in the light at his desk and looking at him as he worked away on his spelling lesson, she saw Jake for the first time. There was a set in his jaw, a way his profile looked in shadow. His red-blonde hair and fair skin, the curve of his smile, and his cheekbones, oh those were all his grandmother Avery. Born again in her grandson it seemed. But with each passing day, she saw Jake just a little bit more.

Her heart hurt.

There were calls still to make - not the least of which to a man who spent enough time overseas that he could be classified as an ex-pat. A man she loved. A man she didn’t know how to tell because she couldn’t stand the look in his eyes when he was scared for her. A man who, despite how much he loved her and she loved him, she just wasn’t sure this across-the-world arrangement was going to work.

No. That was just the cancer talking.

Worse than Peter though, Jake needed to know. He needed to be made aware that if all the promises made by doctors fell through, he’d have to step up, he’d have to raise his son. Not that Peter would let it go lightly. For the first time since the miscarriage, she wished they’d just gone through with it. Loving someone, partnering to them without marriage, it was all well and good until cancer threatened to ruin the fun.

She shifted her arm just a bit before knocking on the door to announce herself. She’d wanted Avery to stay over at Sean’s tonight, but he’d come through the door after soccer practice, gone to shower, and plopped down in his room to study. Only Corky’s dinner had brought him out and then he’d gone right back to his Michael Jordan poster and spelling book.

“Hi, Mom,” Avery said, his tone sullen. Scared.

“What’s the word tonight?” She came into the bedroom, kicked his jeans aside, and sat down on the edge of the unmade bed.

“We’re studying science terms,” Avery replied without lifting his head to look at her.

“Oh? Because I promise you, unless you go into science, you won’t use most of them.”

He still didn’t look at her.

“Yeah.” Avery handed her the notebook. “Want to look?”

She glanced down at the rows of words, written over and over again. Cancer. Radiation. Chemotherapy. Her heart stopped.

“Avery …”

“I got on the computer in the library at school today.” He tucked his feet up on the rung of the desk chair. “Looked up “bump ” and “breast” and what it might mean.” Blue eyes that matched her own stared at her. “You didn’t tell me the whole truth, Mom.”

“No.” A breath. “I didn’t.” Murphy set the spelling book down on the bed. “Because I was scared too.”

“Do you have cancer?”

Another breath. And another. Tears filled her eyes. For all the freedom of saying to the strangers in the hospital (she blamed the painkillers), this was so much harder than she wanted it to be. “Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, I have cancer.” She touched the tender spot on her breast. “It’s right about here, that’s where they found it. And my surgery was to take out the stuff they can see. They think they got everything, which is really good. But I still have to go through chemotherapy, to make sure that the cancer doesn’t keep growing.”

Avery stared at her. She met his eyes, letting him sort out his thoughts.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that once a week, I go to the doctor. And they’re gonna pump me full of medicine to kill off all the cancer cells they can’t see. It’s gonna go on for about six months.”

“Is it going to make you sick?”

She appreciated the tactic. He’d already done his research. He knew the answer. He was testing her to see if she would lie to him again.

“Probably. It’s going to make me queasy all the time. And my hair might fall out. But some people can get through it okay. Some people have a harder time. We won’t know until we start.”

Silence. She let him process.

“Are you going to die?”

The tears finally spilled over. Murphy opened her arms for him and he raced to her, hugging her so tightly she was sure she popped a couple of stitches. She didn’t care. Like she had his entire life, she rocked him tenderly, holding his heart close to hers. “The good news is … breast cancer, the kind I have, they know how to beat it. I’m gonna be sick for a while, but this one, this is fixable. So if I listen to my doctors and do what I’m supposed to do, I should be okay in the end. I might miss some soccer games. I might want you to stay over at Sean’s from time to time. But I’m gonna be okay.”

He sniffed and she knew there was snot all over her shirt. She didn’t care.

“Uncle Frank and Aunt Corky, they’re going to be here for you. I promise.”

“What about dad?”

She sighed. “I haven’t told your dad yet. I don’t want to scare him.”

Avery pulled back and rubbed his eyes. “He needs to come home.”

Murphy didn’t want to argue. Finally she took his hand and met his eyes. “I know, honey. But it’s hard for me sometimes to admit that kind of thing. When you were really little, Peter and I were going to get married. I don’t know if you remember that. But then I …” she sighed and decided that as long as all the cards were on the table tonight, all the cards were on the table. “I was pregnant, actually.”

Avery’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah, I was. We didn’t tell you because I had what’s called a miscarriage.”

“That’s when the baby dies before it’s born. Bobby’s mom had one.”

Murphy’s heart broke a bit at the stark reality of Avery’s definition. “Yeah, that’s what happens. So, your dad and I, we got really sad and we broke up because we were so scared. He was in Saudi Arabia when it happened and it was too hard for him to go rushing home and there was a part of me that resented it. But I’d have been even angrier at him if he’d given up the interviews he had lined up.”

“You guys are really dumb.”

That made her laugh. “Oh, I know.”

“But you guys got back together.”

“Yeah, we did. And I love your dad so much. But there are times when it’s really hard for us to be on opposite sides of the world. Right now, it’s one of those times.”

“Are you guys fighting?” Avery sounded so scared.

“No …” Murphy squeezed his hand, reassuring him. “No, honey. We’re not. But we’re not talking a lot right now either. We’re both really busy and it’s just hard.”

“But you’re going to tell him, right?”

“Yes. I won’t hide this from him. But I don’t know how we’re going to be, okay? He’s got a lot to do, and I don’t want him dropping everything to come back here and take care of me.”

“Why not?” Avery crossed his arms. “You told me that people who love each other take care of each other.”

Oh, why did he pay attention to what she said?

“They do. But it gets a bit messier when you’re older. Which I know sounds like a cop out. But I also know what your dad is working on right now and I know how important a story it is. I have you and Aunt Corky and Uncle Frank to help out. I want him to come home, but I don’t want him to lose this chance he has.” Avery’s face reflected her internal bs meter. She was just scared of Peter’s fear. “But I know your dad and when I tell him, he’ll be on the next plane home. After that, we’ll figure out what’s going to happen, okay?”

Avery nodded. And then asked the next question. “What happens to me if you die?”

She knew it was coming. It still sucked the wind out of her. “I don’t know, honey. I haven’t gone there because all of my doctors say I’m going to be fine. But it’s a conversation we’ll have with your dad.” She took a deep breath. “And with Jake too.”

“I’m not living with Jake!”

“You don’t want to get to know your little brother?”

Avery glared at her. Murphy almost laughed. Almost. As it was, it was impossible to keep the smile away from the edges of her lips. “I don’t think it’s going to go there, Avery. I really don’t. But I’m going to talk to your dad, and to Jake. But I promise, you’ll be safe. Every step of the way. You are the most important thing in my life, Avery. It’s going to take a lot more than some stupid little cell growth to separate us, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you scared?”

Tears touched her eyes again. “Yes, Avery. I’m terrified. But I’ve got you. And I’ve got your Uncle Frank and Aunt Corky. I have Kay. I’ve got your Uncle Jim and Aunt Doris too. I have the best doctors in Washington. And even though he’s overseas, I’ve got your dad. I’m going to be okay. This time next year, we’ll be up at the cabin in New York. We’ll take time off and go read and play and go to that really cool cheese store and up to Boldt Castle. Next year, this is just going to be a bump in the road.”

“I’m making you keep that promise.”

She held up her hand. “On my honor.”

“I’m not a boy scout.”

She chuckled. “Let’s go get some ice cream.” She stood up and reached for his hand. “And we’ll call your dad together, okay?”

He nodded and in the set of his shoulders, she could see Peter’s influence. Confident, even in his nerves. Cautious. Gentle. She let him lead her down the stairs to the kitchen. Corky already had the rocky road out.

***

They sat together on her bed, Avery holding the tattered lobster Peter had given him ages ago, during another fraught time. She hadn’t seen the toy in ages. It, the dolphin, and one of his stuffed chickens having been relegated to the bottom of the toy pile and most of the others sent to the attic or off to Goodwill. She didn’t miss how his hand clutched what was left of the claw, or how he refused to meet her eyes. She dialed the familiar cell phone, fully expecting it to go to voicemail. It was 9:00 in the morning there.

Instead, on ring four, a familiar voice came across the line. “Hey, babe. Give me just a second.” There was a rustling and the tone of voice he used when talking to crew members and five heartbeats later, Peter spoke again. “Sorry. Had to get away from the crew. This is a nice surprise. What’s up?”

Murphy took a breath. Suddenly, this was harder than telling Avery.

“Murphy?”

Her voice suddenly gone, Murphy handed the phone to their son. “Dad! Dad, I’m cool. But Mom needs to tell you something so I’m gonna give the phone back to her. Dad, you can come home right?”

“Avery!” Murphy grabbed the phone back in time to hear Peter panic.

“What’s going on? Avery?!”

“Peter,” Murphy stared at the sapphire ring on her hand and was suddenly so glad she’d been able to put it back on after the surgery. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Murphy, what the hell--”

“I have breast cancer.”

Silence. Horrified silence. The last time she’d heard silence like this she’d been crying into the phone, telling him the child they had never planned for would never come to be. Worse though was looking over and seeing tears in Avery’s wide eyes.

“They, uh … they did the lumpectomy yesterday.”

“Wait.” Peter was gasping for breath and she could hear the tirade coming. “You’ve known about this long enough for there to be time for you to schedule your surgery and I haven’t known. What the hell, Murphy? Are you okay? What’s the prognosis? What … when did you find out?”

Avery grabbed the phone back. “Dad, don’t yell!”

Murphy took a breath. “It was about ten days ago,” she said after wrestling the phone back. “I went in for a mammogram and it all just happened so fast and don’t be too upset. I only told Avery the night before last that I was going into the hospital today and he didn’t know until tonight it was cancer. I …”

“You couldn’t say it outloud?”

She melted, just a bit, at the familiar tone. If anything, her partner knew her. He was angry right now, but he knew her. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to …”

“To worry about you?” The exasperated sigh cut her. “God …” Silence again. “I’m hanging up and calling Sheila and seeing what I can do to put a hold on this story and get home.”

“Peter --”

“Don’t you dare try to pull that right now, Murphy. Don’t you dare. Don’t tell me the story is more important because it isn’t and I am sick and tired of I’ll be home as soon as I can. And as soon as my flight is booked, I’m calling you back.” The line went dead and Murphy tossed the phone onto the bed.

“What?” Avery looked scared.

“He’s booking a flight home. He’s pretty mad at me right now.”

“He’s scared.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “Hey, you want to do a sleepover? We can hang out in here and watch TV.” She needed a pain pill. “Is your homework done?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go get into your jammies and grab your blanket and we’ll hang out in here and wait for your dad to call back.”

Avery nodded and raced out of the room. Murphy sighed, knowing full well that he was scared to let her out of his sight. She barely had time to change herself before he was back, blanket and pillow in tow. He plopped down in front of the TV and Murphy put in Men in Black. Avery lost himself in the movie and she popped a pain pill and tried to get comfortable on the bed. The soreness in the tissue was creeping in.

Just as the cat was escaping from the bookstore, the phone rang. Avery paused the movie and looked up. Murphy answered.

“Hey,” she said, nervous. “Calmed down?”

“Not really.” His voice was clipped. “Murphy, you should have called me. Right away.”

“I didn’t know how.”

“There’s buttons on the phone. You dial them!”

He stopped, suddenly. She could see him pacing, running his hand through his hair, trying to keep his temper under control.

“Peter, I barely acknowledged it myself until yesterday.”

“You had surgery, Murphy. You had to make the choice about the lumpectomy. Murphy, this isn’t … this is cancer.”

She could hear the tears in his voice, the fear everyone was grappling with. This was what she was so tired of dealing with. Why did they have to be scared? Why couldn’t this just be reserved for her. “It’s kind of what kicked me in the pants.”

“How bad is it?” He paused. “Can you talk? Is Avery there?”

“It’s not great,” she said. “But it could be worse. I start chemo next week. And yes, he’s here.”

Again, silence. She heard something creak. A chair. A door, maybe. She waited.

“God, Murphy. I …” a breath. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Stoned from the painkillers. Corky actually … Frank was here last night. Corky’s here right now. But honestly, I don’t feel sick. I … I didn’t feel sick until they found this lump and even then I didn’t feel sick but now I … I’ve had biopsies and surgeries and I start chemo soon and … I … I just don’t know.” She clenched her hand in the blanket, suddenly needing him. She needed his arms around her. She needed him to tell her it was going to be okay. She needed him to hug Avery and give him strength. “When are you coming home?”

There was a long pause. “It’ll be next week. I just can’t stomach the idea of only coming home for a day and then running out again. I want some time with you. So next week. Before your chemo treatment, I hope.”

“It’s Friday morning.”

“Well. I’ll be home Friday afternoon. And damnit, Murphy, we’re going to talk.”

“I know.” She took another breath. “Okay.” Another breath. “You’re right though. I should have told you.”

“We’ll fight about that later. I’m just glad you’re okay right now.” He was quiet for a long minute. “I’m really pissed I’m not there right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She could see him rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, put Avery on. I want to say good night. I’ll … call you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She wiped away tears. “Avery, your dad wants to talk to you.”

Avery took the phone. Murphy scooted off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  


***

She and Corky sat at the dining room table, tea steaming from FYI mugs between them. It was strange how easy it was to destroy walls once you’d climbed over them, and it was even stranger to admit she liked talking to Corky. Relying on her was just part of the fun, but she liked having another adult around. Even with Peter in her life, she was tired and lonely and missed conversation that didn’t revolve around farts and hair dye. “I’m sorry about you and Miles,” Murphy said, finally. “I really am.”

“I am too,” Corky wiped her eyes. “But I knew it from the beginning, when I think about it. You knew. I wish I’d listened to you.”

“I don’t know, I was pretty pissed at the two of you back then.”

“Why?”

Murphy rolled her eyes and held up the hand with the sapphire ring on it. “Really?”

Corky had the grace to blush. “God, I’m so sorry. We were all so …shocked.”

“I’ve heard it from Frank, you know. That no one believed I could settle down with a guy I’d been dating for two years.”

“Well,” Corky snapped a bit, “you haven’t heard it from me.”

“Oh?” Murphy blew into the steam on her tea.

“I was so mad at you, Murphy. No, mad isn’t the right word. I was so jealous.” She looked skyward and wiped at her eyes. “You had it all. The perfect man - a man I once kissed by the way - the adorable kid, and you were getting married and even for a few minutes you thought you were pregnant … and there I was, divorced. Dating Miller Redfield for god’s sake. All I wanted was to have some semblance of that perfect life I dreamed of, you know. Back when I was standing on that stage. And when Miles was there at the party, and he was as miserable as I was and he wanted to take off … it was all such a whirlwind and then … and now. Now you were right and I could have saved myself a lot of money and time if I’d just been smart. But I had to be right, you know. I had to believe this crush I’d developed on Miles was something of consequence. But honestly, I think we were both lonely, so we let ourselves believe this was the right move.”

Murphy held back her opinions about Miles and his sexuality. Now was not the time. Instead she took Corky’s hand and squeezed it. “I was so mad … so hurt. And it was stupid, but you ran off to the Cayman Islands and that was Peter’s and my spot. It was like you rubbed it in my face. My relationship was falling apart and you were off doing this thing and I had to come up with the game face to support you.”

“You didn’t at first. Why did you change?”

“You wanted to be happy and I wanted my friends to be happy. Anyway, it was easier than focusing on myself.”

Corky sighed. “Thank you.” Her brow furrowed. “Why did you two call off the wedding. I … I never asked and by the time I did, you just seemed … it seemed like it wasn’t a good time to ask. I know you two are … back together? However that works out for you?”

Murphy chuckled a bit. “After all these years, you’d think you’d understand it, Corky.”

“I just … I guess I see marriage differently.”

“Peter and I aren’t married,” Murphy reminded her. “But one of the reasons we aren’t is that we weren’t sure we wanted that pressure of the label. It messed us up once.”

“That was what did it? Wedding pressure?”

She looked at her friend for a long time and finally ducked her head down and took a breath. After all these years, it still hurt and telling Avery earlier hadn’t made it any better. “Somewhat, but … no, Corky. I … I had a miscarriage.”

The color drained from Corky’s face. “Murphy …I’m so …I’m so sorry.” She took a breath. “God, no wonder you two wanted to get married so fast. That always surprised me. Seeing you shoehorn things like you did, it didn’t make a lot of sense. But I thought it was because you were scared if you took your time you wouldn’t do it. Now I get it.”

“None of the stats make it easier. I was forty-seven years old. Almost forty-eight. Only five percent of women have a chance to carry a viable pregnancy. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. And when Peter and I called off the wedding, it was because I was too scared to face it.” She looked down at her chest. “Kind of like now, really.”

“Does he know? I mean, I know you said he’ll be home soon, but does he know?”

“Yes. And he’s pissed. Every time we talk, I can hear it in his voice. I don’t blame him. But how do I call him up and tell him to walk away from a story he’s waited his whole life to tell.”

“You call him up …?” Corky shook her head. “No. I do understand it. I do. Because in the end, it isn’t just Miles who is responsible for our marriage ending. It’s my stories and his dedication to the craft and this fantasy I can’t seem to let go of… I’m sorry, Murphy. I hope it will be okay with Peter.”

“It will be. He’s pissed, but we’ll work it out.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

Murphy took a long sip of her tea and looked over the mug at Corky. “I’m not confident, Corky. I wish I was. But he’s so angry right now and we weren’t in a great place before I called him. What? Now he’s here and feeling guilty because I’m sick? This reintegration isn’t going to be easy.”

“But he’s coming home. That’s a start.”

“It is.” She sighed. “You go home and I’m going back to work and Peter will be home on Friday. You think the world is ready for me?”

“Nope. But they never have been before. You just keep taking us all by storm and we have to hope we understand the aftermath.”

That brought a smile to her face. “Damn skippy.” They looked at each other. “You’re going to be okay, Corky. I know it.”

Corky’s smile was sad. “Thank you, Murphy.”

Murphy pushed back from the table. “I think it’s bedtime.”

“Yeah.” Corky grabbed the mugs. “I’ll do these.”

“I can just put them in the dishwasher.”

“No …” Tears were back in Corky’s eyes. “I think I need a few minutes alone.”

“Okay.” She paused. “Good night, Corky.”

“Good night, Murphy.”  
  


***

For most of the eleven hour flight back to DC, Peter stared out the window, stewing.

The worst part of all of this was that he and Murphy weren’t in a great place right now. They weren’t edging toward a breakup, but calls had been missed over the last few months, stories had taken priority in places where they hadn’t in a while. Distance took a toll and they hadn’t seen each other since before she’d accepted the White House job. What was supposed to be a family vacation at the cabin in New York had become just her and Avery when people kept blowing things up and that kept him reporting on the front lines. The 24 hour news cycle would be the death of civilization.

Cancer.

The last time he’d been stewing like this on a flight back to DC, she’d been sobbing over the phone, telling him she’d lost the baby. At least she’d told him about that right away. This was what? Two weeks later? More? She had cancer and what? She was going to let him find out about it when she did a commentary about access to healthcare for women? Jesus.

Cancer.

The word circled around and around his head, twisting down his throat, clogging his lungs and wrapping chains around his heart.

Cancer. Six months of chemo that she’d started without him. Lumpectomy.

The worst part was, the thing he couldn’t get over, had nothing to do with her. It was that he couldn’t just stop what he was doing overseas. It wasn’t just the contract, it was the reality that life went on even when sick. She wouldn’t take any time off and she wouldn’t let him either. This wasn’t a one time thing. This could drag on for years. What was he supposed to do, put both of their lives on hold? She’d never let that happen and he didn’t want it to happen. So what then? Nightly check-ins? Prayer?

All he could do was run the stats through his head, over and over and over and over again. And when that didn’t work to calm him, he listed off Avery’s soccer match wins, Murphy’s awards, the stories he had in the hopper. He ran through World Series numbers and NBA players and it wasn’t until the cab dropped him off in front of the town house that the tears actually formed.

Both of their cars were out front, along with Frank’s Jag. Great. But of course someone would have taken her to and from chemo.

The door was unlocked. He came in to see her lying on the couch, feet up, eyes closed. Peter dropped his bag on the foyer floor and walked to her, kneeling down as he reached her side. She was pale and the blanket was over her lap.

“You gonna kiss me and turn me into a beautiful princess?” She teased, opening one eye. In that breath, every bit of his anger and frustration washed away.

“Why demote you from queen?” He leaned over and kissed her. She tightened her hand in his hair and when he pulled away, she sighed.

“I’d ask you to take me upstairs, but honestly, I just don’t have the energy and this bathroom is closer.”

Okay. The anxiety was back. “Murphy?”

“It hurts.” She closed her eyes. “It feels like I poisoned myself. Linda was right. This is jet fuel territory. And I put it inside of me.” She sat up and Peter slid into his usual place on the couch and wrapped his arms around her, watching for when she turned green. Where the hell was Frank? “How was the flight?”

“Long and anxiety ridden.” He pulled her closer against his body.

“I’m sorry.”

“Before we launch into anything … can we just sit here for a minute?”

“Sure …”

“I can’t talk much yet.” She curled against him, like she always had. Her head rested on his shoulder and he traced his fingers up and down her arm, reassuring himself that she was here, she was whole. Well. Mostly. The devil on his shoulder filled his mind with images of cancer cells growing and exploding and taking over her thin body.

“Be honest with me,” he finally said. “How are you feeling?”

She answered by shooting up and racing to the bathroom. Peter followed to find her on the floor, her head in the toilet, barfing her guts out. But there wasn’t anything left to puke so it was bile and water and she screamed in pain as her body contracted around itself.

He felt a presence behind him and turned to see Frank holding a washcloth. The other man handed it over and Peter walked into the small space and knelt down next to Murphy, pressing the cloth to her forehead.

“Frank …” she gasped after a long minute. “Please … take Avery home with you tonight … I can’t let him see this.”

In an instant, Peter had never been more grateful for Frank’s presence in Murphy’s life. But his gratitude was set aside when the dry heaves took over again. For a five minute eternity, she coughed and spat into the toilet, so exhausted that tears ran down her cheeks and she was shaking so hard he thought she’d crumble apart.

How the hell could he go back to work? How could she?

Finally she settled and looked past him to Frank. “Please, Frank?”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” Frank nodded. He looked at Peter and coaxed him out of the bathroom. Peter followed, knowing he was steps behind right now and needed to rely on them to keep up.

“There’s instructions in the kitchen. Gatorade and Pedialyte in the fridge. Try to get something into her. Don’t wear her out. She’s going to need to sleep at some point.” His eyes narrowed. “You can talk later, okay?”

“Got it.” Like he had any intention to talk now. Right now, he just wanted to get Murphy to stop puking.

“They’ve got her on this anti-nausea medication but it isn’t working. She needs to call the doctor in the morning if it doesn’t kick in and they’ll try something else.”

“Got it.” Peter realized he was still holding the damp washcloth. Out of the fire and into this. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“She’s got ice packs in the freezer and the electric blanket. She’s back and forth between chills and overheating.”

What the hell were they doing to her?

“Got it,” he said again. “Um, Frank …” he stared at him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for her, you know that.” Frank took a breath. “I’m going to go get Avery. I’m glad you’re back. She shouldn’t be alone.”

Peter nodded and before Frank could gather his things, went back to where Murphy still rested against the bathroom wall, trying to catch her breath. Tears streamed down her face and she stared at him through foggy eyes.

Week one.

This was what it meant, right? To love someone through the good and the bad? He’d always sworn he didn’t need vows to love her like he’d married her, but now he understood why people did it. Why people stood up in front of friends and family and god herself to make a promise to look after each other.

How many times had she nursed him back from injury? Broken legs and dislocated shoulders and concussions and his damn back and she’d been there and had barely blinked. He’d missed the miscarriage and run out the door at the first sign of stress and now she was here, sitting on the floor of her bathroom. This was it. This was his test. It wasn’t about giving up his life on the road, it was about being here in this moment.

“Let’s make this more comfortable,” he said, kneeling next to her. “The floor is freezing.”

“I can’t leave the bathroom …” she hiccuped and put her head over the toilet, but nothing came of it. She whimpered and curled around herself.

“I’ll be right back.” Peter raced to the spare bedroom and there in the closet was the stack of extra blankets and body pillows. He grabbed three of each and took the stairs so fast he almost broke his neck. In the bathroom, he put a pillow down for her to sit on, another for her back, and another to wrap herself around. One blanket went around her shoulders, the other two were for her lap if she needed them. “They’re washable,” he said when she shot him a look. “Now stay here and don’t puke again til I get back.”

Up to the bedroom, Peter grabbed two extra sets of pjs and the book on her nightstand. In the kitchen, he settled for the orange gatorade and pulled out a can of soup in case she wanted to try and eat anything. If he’d thought they were going to talk tonight, reality had smacked him down, hard. Tonight wasn’t about him being pissed she’d been too scared to tell him about the cancer. Tonight was about what cancer meant for them. What it meant for her and for Avery.

In the bathroom, Murphy was curled up on the body pillow, her eyes closed while she shivered. Peter settled next to her and helped her head rest on his thigh. They sat together in silence, him running his fingers through her hair, until exhaustion finally claimed her and she found solace in sleep.

His mind was an 80’s movie montage of clips of their relationship. Conversations on the phone, Avery calling him daddy for the first time, her telling him she was pregnant, her saying yes to his proposal, the first time he’d laid eyes on her … over and over again in his mind. The punch the night of his first show, the first time he’d kissed her, the first time they’d made love, the way she’d been so insecure their first night together, so sure he would reject her.

Five years together - save for those five dumb months when they’d pushed each other away after the miscarriage. Five years of racing toward each other at the airport, of stealing quickies in each other’s offices, of sneaking off to summits together. It felt like a lifetime and like no time had passed at all.

Maybe it was time to get married after all.

Two hours into their time on the bathroom floor, she woke. Green and shaky, she pulled herself to her feet. “I think the couch is more …” she swayed and he grabbed for her. “More comfortable.”

“I got you.” Peter supported her back to the couch and helped her down, covering her with the blanket. She was asleep before her head hit the cushions. Peter moved the coffee table out of the way, grabbed one of the body pillows from the bathroom, and stretched out next to her. In sickness and in health, damnit. It didn’t matter if a judge signed off on it or not.

***

She woke to see him stretched out on the floor and winced in sympathy for what it had to be doing to his back. Yeah, they had to work something else out for days like this. Well, they had to figure out what he was going to do. Suddenly, she wanted to throw all caution to the wind and just have him move home.

“Hey,” she poked him from her place on the couch. “Wakey wakey, Petey.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes as he did so. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“If I don’t move and I talk real soft, I might survive a few more hours.” She pressed her hand to her sore ribs. “I really did puke out an organ last night I think.”

“It’ll get better, right? Your body will get used to it?”

“They say no …”

“How are the nausea meds working?”

She rolled her eyes, which hurt to do. “Did you miss the not moving thing?”

He chuckled. “Point taken.” His hand was close and she reached down to link their fingers. “You scared the hell out of me last night,” he said. “God, Murphy …”

She took a shaky breath. “Me too … I really didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“How many more treatments?”

“Six months …right now, my next one is next week. And then after that, it’s two weeks. It’s a cycle … they ...” she let out a breath. “They want to give the healthy cells …” another breath. “The chance to grow …” another. This wasn’t good. But at least she didn’t think she was going to send her stomach out of her body this time. “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Get up here and hold me.”

Tears filled her eyes as he shot up and curled around her on the couch. Always his strong arms and body serving as a barrier against a world she’d never been afraid of, but sometimes needed a break from. He held perfectly still, which she appreciated, and moment by moment, she molded back against him. She was learning that nausea came in waves and right now, the sea was calm.

“How pissed are you?” she finally asked.

“Honestly?” He kissed the side of her head. “Until I saw you puking your guts out last night, I was furious. And hurt. But we’re here right now and we have to face it now, not two weeks ago.”

“I really … I know I should have told you. But I was so scared, Peter. Admitting it to anyone meant …” She coughed and waited for her stomach to settle. “It meant it wasn’t going away and I needed it to go away.”

“It isn’t going away.”

“No.” She risked moving and regretted it. One breath. Two. Four. Six. She settled. “Full disclosure. I did tell Frank right away.”

“I figure Frank knows everything before the rest of us,” Peter responded, his voice soft and less hurt than she expected. “Well, most things.”

“He was there in the office when I found out.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s been a crazy couple of weeks.”

“I can imagine.” His hand stroked through her hair and she waffled between wanting him to never stop and wincing at how sensitive to touch she’d suddenly become.

“How long are you home?” She asked, looking up at him. They had so much to talk about, so much to work through, so much to set into motion.

“There’s no time limit right now.”

“You report from war zones. There’s always a time limit.” But she appreciated the effort. And the truth. But right now, he was holding her and soon Avery would come home and he could keep up with him and she could go to bed.

“Are you up for going to bed?”

She appreciated the change in subject. There wasn’t any need to keep rehashing the conversation. “I think so. The bathroom up there is close too.”

He guided her up the stairs, holding her close, and she leaned on him perhaps more than she needed to but it felt so good to have his arms around her. He helped her change into fresh pjs, got her into bed - phone, laptop, book, gatorade, saltines, anti-nausea meds. She only dry-heaved twice during the whole process. On the bed, he wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed back into his warmth.

In sickness and in health, right? That was the key part of the vow? Because she knew she’d love him until the day she died. That wasn’t the hard part.

“Tell me about what you’ve been up to …” she was tired, and mostly, she wanted the story. She wanted his voice to lull her to sleep. They’d figure out everything else later.

***

Peter was waiting when Frank and Avery came through the door. Avery looked panicked, which was to be expected. But he still raced over for a hug and Peter scooped him up and held up close. How was he growing so fast?

“Hey, kid,” he murmured, crushing his son to him.

Avery clung, his arms around Peter’s neck, and Peter made no effort to put him down. Truth be told, he was here as much - if not more - for Avery than he was for Murphy. He met Frank’s eyes across the foyer and could read the distrust and contempt in the gaze. Frank had never trusted him, never believed that he was there for Murphy. Right now, he couldn’t blame him.

Finally, Avery’s weight got the better of his back and Peter slid the boy to the floor, still holding him close. “You keep growing,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I keep telling your mom to not feed you but I guess you get cranky.”

Avery tried to smile but his eyes glanced up, past the ceiling.

“Your mom is asleep right now,” Peter said. “But you know what, if you take your book or your game boy and are really quiet, I bet she’d be okay with you hanging out in the bedroom. Just try not to wake her up, okay? The chemo made her really sick and she needs to sleep.”

Avery’s eyes were wide but he nodded, grabbed his backpack, and ran up the stairs.

Peter stared at Frank. Frank stared back.

“So what?” Frank asked, walking in. “You swoop in and act the hero and then head out again?”

“Frank …”

“Stop.” Frank held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve gone six rounds with Murphy about this already and she’s … Murphy. But love isn’t just getting together and getting your rocks off when you’ve got an itch.”

“Love is also talking about how to make these situations work,” Peter said, jamming his hands into his jeans pockets. “You know she isn’t going to take a break. And she won’t let me either. But I’m here right now and we’re going to figure something out.”

“And leave the burden of care to her friends then?”

“To her family,” Peter shot back. “You’re her brother, Avery’s your godson. Look, Frank, I’m pissed too.” He stalked closer. “But you know as well as I do that she won’t let the world stop. We’re going to figure something out. But for the love of god, can we just get through the next couple of days? Can she come out of this first chemo haze before we have to set down all of the rules that we’re looking at?”

Frank stood his ground, but his shoulders softened. Then he nodded. Stepped back. “Fair point.”

“Look, I’m here. I’ve got them. Go get some rest. Judging by last night, we’ve all got a long journey ahead of us.”

“Okay.” Frank glanced up the stairs. “Should I …?”

Peter’s gaze followed. “Let them be right now. Of all of us, the kid upstairs has the most to carry.”

Frank nodded. Peter held his breath.

Finally, the other man backed up and headed out the door. Peter waited until he heard the car pull away before sinking into the couch, taking a long, shaking breath. Finally, he let the tears come.


End file.
